


nobody but you

by lovefrompluto



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hollywood, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Anxiety, Celebrities, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Insomnia, Literal Sleeping Together, Secret Relationship, Sexual Tension, Sleeping Together, Slow Burn, cuddling as a form of therapy, no like, personal assistant rey, rey has student loans to pay that's the only reason she agreed to this okay, rey works for leia not ben
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:47:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25294945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovefrompluto/pseuds/lovefrompluto
Summary: Rey Jones is spunky, optimistic, eager to please, and… in way over her head.When the job of personal assistant to celebrity talk show host Leia Organa falls into her lap, nothing can prepare Rey for the lavish and convoluted world of Hollywood’s elite.Even less prepared is she for Ben Solo, Leia’s ill-tempered son and the black sheep of his ultra famous family, whose inexplicable interest in her is perhaps the most bewildering part of all.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 26
Kudos: 104





	nobody but you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how long will this be, you ask? good question! i've got the bare bones of six chapters and the ending of this written, so your guess is as good as mine!
> 
> (disclaimer: i only know what i know about celebrity personal assistants from the internet, and it's... insane. accuracy is not necessarily going to be this fic's strong suit, but it is ridiculously fun to write)

  


**1\. happy little nobody**

  


Rey needed a new suit.

The one she currently wore was cheap and ill-fitting and definitely not something she should have been wearing to job interviews. At least not to interviews in shiny office buildings with receptionists that looked like they could have a side hustle as a Victoria’s Secret model.

She’d bought her suit freshman year of college for presentation purposes and never thought to get another since. Five years ago, the real world and all its adult responsibilities had felt so far away. A tailored suit never seemed like something she would ever _actually_ need.

Sighing out the warm midday air, Rey clomped up the steps to her apartment on the second floor. She scrabbled around through her battered purse for her key and slipped it into the front door.

Inside, Finn sat on the couch watching TV. He looked up and gave her a lazy wave. “Hey. How’d the interview go?”

Rey slung her bag onto the kitchen table and kicked off her flats, heading over to the refrigerator. She grabbed a beer from inside, shrugging her shoulders with a weak smile.

“It was good,” she said hesitantly, searching their drawer for a bottle opener. “Everyone there was very… _polite.”_

Finn turned on the couch to fix her with an unimpressed look. “Rey, I can tell when you’re sugarcoating. How bad was it?”

She blew out a frustrated breath and popped the bottle cap off.

“Possibly pretty bad,” she admitted, wincing. “I don’t know. I started panicking about my suit right before I went in—”

“Your suit?”

“Yeah, and it threw me off the rest of the interview. I sort of… rambled.”

“Ah.” Finn’s tone was knowing, if not sympathetic.

Rey groaned, rubbing a hand over her face. “I know. I just get so nervous. I’m not even sure what I said to the interviewer—all I remember is the glazed look in his eyes as I went on about how much I enjoy crocheting these days.”

“Crocheting?”

“Yeah, I’m really into it right now.” She took a sip of her beer, which dribbled out the side of her mouth onto her shabby suit. Rey looked down at the stain with a sigh. There was probably some poetic irony there that she didn’t have the energy to examine. “But that’s beside the point. Point is, I probably need to keep looking for a job.” She paused, then added: “And I definitely need a new suit.”

“I’m sorry, Rey,” Finn offered, frowning a bit. “One of these jobs will work out eventually. Law of probability and all that, you know?”

She nodded, walking over to the couch to plop down beside her roommate. “Hopefully sooner rather than later, because my nannying gig isn’t going to last much longer. Kara looks like she’s going to pop any day now.”

“Too bad. You seemed to really like it.”

“Yeah, but it works out this way. Couldn’t be a nanny forever.”

Rey smiled softly, thinking about the last year she spent nannying her boss’ seven-year-old son, Duncan. It had been a fun job and paid better than anything she’d interviewed for lately, but it wasn’t a “big girl” job. Once her boss had her baby, she would be home for a few months and Rey’s services would no longer be needed. It was the perfect opportunity for her to start looking for a new job, one she could actually start a career in.

She just needed to figure out what that career was going to be.

“Are you working tomorrow?” Finn asked, stirring her from her thoughts.

“Yep,” Rey nodded, taking another sip of her beer. “Bright and early. Kara still hasn’t found her replacement for when she’s on maternity leave. Can you believe that? You’d think everyone in L.A. would be falling all over themselves to become the personal assistant to a celebrity.”

He snorted. “Especially when the celebrity is _Leia Organa._ Tell Kara to put my name in the hat—I’d much rather hang out with the most popular talk show host in the country than write radio ads.”

She shook her head, grinning. “You say that, but I’ve seriously never met anyone so busy. Kara runs that woman’s life. It’s madness.”

“The life of the rich and famous.” Finn sighed thoughtfully, dropping his head against the back of their worn sofa. “Must be nice, having someone take care of everything for you like that.”

Of course it was. Those people never had to worry about remembering to pay their bills, or looking for jobs, or untailored suits. All of it was simply done by somebody else, not to be stressed over. It sounded like a dream, quite honestly.

But then there was the issue of no privacy. Of their secrets and mistakes being seen as dollar signs and entertainment for public consumption. Of not ever knowing who they could truly trust. And while a good portion of Los Angles might disagree with her, Rey was certain that absolutely nothing was worth that – not even having the world at your fingertips.

“Maybe,” she finally said, smiling around the lip of her beer bottle. “I don’t know. I think I’m quite happy being a little nobody.”

  


* * *

  


As always, Rey arrived at Kara’s home the next morning at seven on the dot. Sunlight had just begun to seep into the muted blue sky at the horizon, and the world was quiet within the confines of the small, gated community in Santa Monica.

The door swung open only seconds after Rey knocked, revealing her very pregnant boss on the other side. Kara Safwan always looked impeccably put together, and today was no exception – she wore a trendy gold maternity dress and her brown bangs were every bit as shiny as they always had been.

But something was off.

Rey stared at her, trying to decipher whether or not it was actually _sweat_ she was seeing on her boss’ smooth forehead – she hadn’t been aware Kara was even capable of sweating.

“Hi,” she began cautiously.

“I think I’m going into labor,” said Kara.

Rey blinked. “Excuse me?”

Kara stepped aside in the doorway, waving her in. “I said I think I’m going into labor. I’m having contractions.” She rolled her eyes then, as if dealing with the annoyance of a minor inconvenience. “Three weeks early. I don’t know why this child is in such a rush to get out, but it really throws a wrench in things.”

Woodenly, Rey stepped into the house, turning to face the heavily pregnant woman with her mouth agape. “I—should I call someone?”

She wasn’t sure why she asked that. Kara was a thirty-something year old woman who was currently going into labor and still looked more put together than Rey despite the sheen of sweat on her face. She had probably called everybody who needed to be called.

“No, no.” Kara shook her head, brown bob swishing. “I already called my mom. She’ll be here shortly to take me and Duncan to the hospital.”

Duncan was going? Was Rey meant to watch him at the hospital?

Kara pursed her lips, studying her, then sighed. “Rey. I need your help.”

“Okay,” she answered blankly. Direction would be nice, because Rey certainly had no fucking clue what to do right now.

“I haven’t found a replacement PA for Leia yet. Obviously, I thought I had a bit more time than this. I was supposed to interview another girl for the job this morning, but that’s not going to happen now with—” 

Kara cut herself off here, face contorting with a grimace as she placed her hand over her enormous belly and bent forward. Rey stood frozen in horror as her boss released a low moan, eyes fixed between her legs as though the baby might come sliding out at any moment.

Just as abruptly, Kara righted herself, flicking her bangs out of her face with a well-manicured hand and looking every bit the cool praying mantis who had swallowed a basketball that she had before her little episode.

“Sorry—contraction,” she explained casually. Rey’s face was numb. “Anyway, I’ve got a million things to do today, and I can’t get any of it done if I’m at the hospital.”

Rey was flabbergasted. That was the only word for it. Did this woman not realize she was having a baby? Now wasn’t the time to worry about who would be answering Leia Organa’s emails for the day.

“I’m sorry,” Rey said, slow and deliberate. “I’m not sure that I’m following.”

“I want you to take over for me,” Kara clarified, as if she wasn’t saying the most ridiculous thing Rey had ever heard. “Just for the day. I’ll let Leia know you’re covering for me and I’ll give you my work phone.”

Kara moved to the decorative table against the wall where her designer purse sat and began rifling through it. Meanwhile, Rey stayed still as a statue and tried to process what she’d just been told, feeling as though her brain was buffering for all the sense it was making.

“I—” Miraculously, she found her voice, though it cracked with shock. “You’re not… serious?” 

Kara turned to face her again with a furrowed brow, a smartphone in one hand and a small black book in the other. She held both out to her. “Of course I am.”

Rey stared. “But—I—I’ve never—"

Kara cut a dismissive hand through the air. “You’ll be fine. I just need you for the day, Rey. You’d be doing me a huge favor.”

When she nudged the phone into Rey’s limp hand, she had no choice but to take it, nearly slipping out of her clammy palm in the process. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t trust you to watch my kid if I didn’t think you were a capable person. Besides, I already had you vetted before you even started working for me.”

“Did you?” said Rey faintly.

“I’m going to text Leia’s address to that phone. The code is 5868, and my schedule is in the calendar app. I’ve got notes under every contact explaining who the person is. And that book is basically a cheat sheet for any questions you might have—do _not_ lose it. It’s all very detailed, okay? Everything you need to know is right there.”

Panic began to bloom in her chest, tearing through the blanket of shock. “Wait,” she began, “Kara, I really don’t know if I can do this—”

“I’ll pay you four times your usual rate.”

All hesitation promptly evaporated. 

“Sounds good,” Rey agreed, unlocking the phone and folding like a flimsy house of cards. “I’ll get started right away.”

  


* * *

  


“This is insane,” Rey announced to her empty car. “This is insanity.”

The cellphone Kara had given her wouldn’t stop ringing. Rey was too afraid to pick it up, but the more she ignored it, the more insistently it seemed to go off.

With shaking fingers, she put it on silent; she had more pressing matters to worry about right now, after all.

She had more pressing matters to worry about, because the first order of business on Kara’s schedule had read: 

_9:00 AM: Pick up Ben Solo from LAX._

Which was why Rey currently sat in traffic on the 405, her car’s A/C working overtime and her heart spasming in her chest as she crept toward the airport.

Rey knew who Ben Solo was, of course. Most everyone did, she imagined, thanks to the tabloids. Very little of what was published about him was good; the man may have been Leia Organa’s son, but he had still managed to firmly place himself somewhere between socialite and social pariah.

Despite coming from a long line of Hollywood starlets, Ben Solo had chosen the unexpected path of corporate businessman. He had worked for Snoke Enterprises, a mega conglomerate company that had dissolved last year amidst fraud and money laundering investigations. Rey remembered seeing plenty about the case once the scandal broke the news, though the details were fuzzy. Faintly, she recalled video footage of Ben Solo striding swiftly into a courthouse, his dark head of hair towering above a sea of news reporters and flashing cameras.

The memory did little to calm her nerves. 

Didn’t he have his own people to do this? He was a former Chief of Staff to one of the biggest companies in the country, and his mother was Leia Organa. Rey couldn’t imagine he would appreciate being picked up in her 2007 Saturn with air conditioning that only stayed cool when the car was moving. In fact, she was certain even Lyft would be a better option.

“Four times your usual rate,” she reminded herself, squeezing the steering wheel until it was almost painful. “Remember your student debt, Rey. Remember your student debt.”

She had texted Ben from her new work phone before leaving Kara’s house, a friendly: 

**Hi! My name is Rey and I’m covering for Kara today. I’ll be picking you up from the airport this morning. Could you tell me which terminal to go to?**

Only fifteen minutes ago (and over an hour after she had sent her text), Ben had responded very curtly with: 

**Terminal 3**

Rey’s heart hadn’t stopped racing since. She was texting _Ben Solo._ What the _fuck._

The familiar shape of LAX came into view, and Rey struggled to keep her breathing steady. It reminded her of being eighteen and arriving at the same airport by herself all those years ago. Back then, however, her nerves were borne from excitement rather than panic.

Right now, she felt like she could choke on all her panic.

She made her way to terminal three, weaving between cars as they started and stopped along the curb. After parking behind a black Subaru, she texted Ben once more.

**I’m at terminal three now.** With a wince, she added: **Look for the grey Saturn Aura.**

She pressed send, only to immediately startle when the phone lit up with a call from someone named _Amilyn Holdo._ Yelping, Rey tossed the phone into the cupholder as though burned.

Only one crisis at a time, thank you very much.

Just then, a sharp rap sounded on her passenger side window. Rey yelped again, much more loudly this time, and looked over to find the unmistakable face of Ben Solo staring back at her through the glass, eyes hidden behind a pair of black sunglasses.

Harried, she scrambled to roll down the window and squeak out a nervous, “Hello!”

Ben just continued to stare at her, crouched over and silent.

Then: _“You’re_ Rey?”

Rey resisted the urge to shrink in on herself. Jesus, his voice was deep — and very much unimpressed.

 _Four times your usual rate,_ she thought, nearing desperate.

“Yep, that’s me!” Rey cheerily replied, offering him a bright smile. She unlocked the doors. “You can put your things in the trunk or the back—whichever you prefer.”

Ben’s head tilted to the side, clearly taking in the state of her shitty car, and Rey tightened her grip on the steering wheel. After an unnecessarily prolonged moment of silence, he sighed and moved out of sight.

She listened as the trunk popped open, then to the sounds of luggage being crammed inside. The back-passenger door opened next, and from the corner of her eye she watched him slide a brown leather duffle bag onto her backseat. Expensive, from the look of it.

Of course it was. Why wouldn’t it be? 

Rey took a deep breath that was not at all calming.

Finally, the passenger door opened, and she stayed stock-still as Ben Solo folded his huge body into her small, overly hot car. 

Then they sat.

Just as the uncomfortable silence in the car approached suffocating, Ben turned his head toward her.

“Are you going to drive?” he asked evenly.

“Oh!” Rey exclaimed, scrambling to shift gears. “Yes, right. I am… definitely going to drive.” 

She kept her eyes fixed straight ahead as she moved away from the curb. Then, carefully, she added: “Where exactly is it that I’m taking you, by the way?”

He was staring at her again.

“My mother’s house,” he answered slowly. A pause. “Do you know where that is?”

She nodded and quickly picked up the cellphone. “Kara actually sent me the address, so that’s perfect.” 

While entering the aforementioned address into the phone’s GPS, she was interrupted by another call from Amilyn Holdo. Rey made a noise of frustration and declined it before setting the phone back into the cupholder just as Siri’s succinct directions began to fill the car.

“That was my mother’s stylist," said Ben. Something like incredulity colored his tone, the most inflection she’d heard from him thus far.

“Was it?” Rey replied mildly. Panic was clawing up her throat again.

“...You said you’re working for Kara right now?”

From her periphery, Rey saw him lift the sunglasses off his face, settling them atop the waves of black hair on his head. She couldn’t resist – she glanced over to get her first good look at his face, only to bite back a gasp.

He was unfairly attractive, naturally, but that wasn’t why she gasped. Beneath his dark eyes were two prominent, purple half-circles, stamped into his pale skin among the smattering of moles and freckles on his face.

He almost looked sickly.

“I—” she stuttered, swinging her head back toward the road to hide the shock that undoubtedly covered her face. “Yeah, um. She went into labor this morning, so I’m covering just for the day… I’m actually her nanny.”

“Jesus,” Ben muttered, sliding a hand over his face. “Kara is usually more prepared than this.”

That rubbed Rey the wrong way. She may be out of her depth here, but that didn’t give him the right to be rude.

“It was unexpected, as giving birth often is,” she responded, a tad tartly. “She hadn’t found her replacement yet. But I’ll have you know that I’m perfectly capable to drive you home, so don’t stress yourself out too much.”

Ben’s jaw was clenched. “Excuse me if I’m a little skeptical of a teenage babysitter.”

“I’m twenty-three, _actually,”_ Rey snapped, scowling; her baby face was a particularly sore spot, made all the worse by her ubiquitous freckles. “But I don’t see how that has anything to do with _anything,_ ” she continued, “seeing as I’m doing her a favor—and _you_ one, by extension.”

“Are you getting paid?”

Her brow furrowed. “Well—yes, but—”

“Then you’re not really doing anyone a favor, are you?”

Rey clamped her mouth shut, cheeks immediately heating up. 

Fuck this guy and his casual condescension. She didn’t have to entertain it. She _wouldn't_ entertain it, no matter how much she was being paid.

An uncomfortable minute or two passed before Ben sighed, breaking the tense silence. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “It was a long flight.”

Rey blinked over at him, startled by the unexpected apology and quick mood shift. He was staring down at his large hands, curled into fists on his lap; she could see a thick vein under the skin of the one closest to her.

“I-It’s alright,” she managed, floundering a bit. Taken aback as she was, she wouldn’t deny a genuine apology, and Ben seemed sincere enough with his bowed head and near-petulant frown. She cleared her throat, hoping to dispel any further awkwardness. “Where did you fly in from?”

He hesitated before answering. “Zürich.”

“Really?” Rey’s eyes widened, perking up in interest. “I’ve always wanted to visit Switzerland! How was it? Beautiful, I’m sure.”

“Yeah, you could say that,” he replied, low and almost deadpan.

Seemed a bit lackluster of a review, but she probably should have expected as much. He was rich and famous; he had probably been to Switzerland plenty of times.

“How long were you there?”

Another beat of hesitation. “Since June.”

“Wow, the whole summer? What a dream. I’ve never been anywhere in Europe besides the U.K.”

Ben cleared his throat, flexing his fingers over his jean-clad thighs. “Is that where you’re from?”

Rey nodded, smiling lightly. “Born here but raised in Britain. I moved back here when I turned eighteen.”

“Hoping to get into show biz?”

She frowned at the flat, knowing tone to his question. “No, actually. I moved for school... I studied English at UCLA.”

This seemed to surprise him; he lifted his eyebrows, as if waiting for her to continue.

“I like to fancy myself a writer,” Rey said, adopting the self-depreciating tone she always used when speaking about this topic. “Not a serious one or anything. I’ve only got a few silly articles published online.”

Ben kept his eyes fixed on her. “That’s better than having nothing.”

“I—Yeah, I guess," she stuttered, thrown by the roundabout compliment. His mood swings were making her nervous, which in turn was making her ramble. “I don’t know. It’s more of a hobby at this point. I don’t think I’m good enough to, like, make a career out of it.”

“You shouldn’t do that.”

Rey furrowed her brow, glancing over. “Do what?”

He was frowning, the fullness of his lips accentuated by the action. Turning his head to look out the window, he muttered, “You shouldn’t say you can’t do something before you’ve even tried.”

“Oh,” Rey said, blinking in surprise. “Yeah, I... I guess you’re right.”

She stole another bewildered look at him, wondering at the way he could so quickly swing from patronizing asshole to oddly wise grouch.

Ben seemed determined to keep his gaze fixed outside after this, and they rode the rest of the way in silence. Despite the lack of conversation, Rey couldn’t help but get the feeling that Ben Solo was… _profoundly_ tired. There was no other way to explain it – she could practically feel the waves of exhaustion radiating from his big, slouched-over body. Wasn’t a person supposed to come back from a summer vacation in Europe relaxed?

Eventually, the phone’s GPS led them to a gated community that could only be described as mind-boggling. Ben leaned over her car console to speak with the guard at the front, and then the gates were swinging open and granting Rey entry to the most lavish collection of homes she had ever seen in her life. She couldn’t help the way she stared and gaped, creeping down the streets until the GPS brought her to one of the largest houses yet.

“Oh my god,” she said, staring up at the beautiful, sprawling mansion in front of her. “Do you _live_ here?”

Ben didn’t answer. Instead, he unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door to exit, only pausing to tell her, “Your phone is ringing. You probably don’t want to decline this one.”

Snapping out of her trance, Rey frowned and picked up the lit-up cell phone – and immediately blanched at the name on the screen.

Leia Organa was calling her.

  



End file.
